The M'lud Life : Episode Two

"The Businessman Within"

INTRODUCTION

EXT. DAY. Train Station

[Hilary is waving goodbye to his mother[1] out of the window]

Hilary

Goodbye! Love you!

Mother

Come and see me again soon!

Hilary

I'll hold my breath! [he puffs out his cheeks, crosses his eyes, and wobbles his head]

[they wave, then Hilary settles in his seat. Realising he is still holding his breath, the air finally bursts out. He is sitting at a table seat, and the three other chairs are empty. First, a businessman sits opposite him. They stare aggressively at each other. Another sits next to him. Hilary begins to sweat, and fingers the gavel, which is on his leg. A third businessman fills the final seat, and Hilary starts to shudder. All the businessmen put a mobile phone on the table as they sat down. After a silence, all the mobile phones ring. They answer.]

One

I want in on the ground floor on this deal, Patrick.

Two

Cancel my eleven o'clock brunch moot - the MD's biting my arse here.

Three

Can you just run with me on this one, Duncan?

[Hilary glances around, panicky. He is getting worse]

One

No dice, Petersen, no dice.

Two

[tapping on a personal organiser] I've got a window at five.

Three

Dammit, Lesley, it's my balls blu-tacked to the boardroom carpet here!

[close up on mouths, repeating snippets of the above - "biting my arse", "run with me", "no dice", "brunch moot" - on the third cycle "run with me" is spoken in a woman's voice. An angelic businesswoman stands at the table. She beckons Hilary, who floats out of his body towards her, translucent.]

Hilary

Who... who are you?

Angel

Why, Hilary, I'm your Guardian Angel.

Hilary

What? Why are you here?

Angel

You are in grave peril. Your brain has induced a state of sleep to protect you from the vile business jargon.

Hilary

[shuddering] Uhr.. but what's the problem?

Angel

Nothing... yet. Here, their vulgarities can only effect you at a subliminal level. There is, however, one drawback.

Hilary

What is it?

Angel

There are only two ways for you to wake up. You can wait for the businessmen to leave, and your brain will release you.

Hilary

Ace!

Angel

But that will take you.... [she looks stern] past your station.

Hilary

But Killian is cooking me a shepherd’s pie.... He’ll kill me if I’m late. He did last time.

Angel

You must confront, and conquer, that part within you that yearns for windsor knots and thinks that jeans have no place in nightclubs. Only then can you face the real-life businessmen and their brutal lingual perversions.

Hilary

There is no businessman in me! I won't hear such filthy nonsense!

Angel

Follow me...

[The train zooms on...]

OPENING CREDITS

N/rator

Trains. To some, they are metal horses, foraging in metal horse stations for humans to eat, only to find their squalor too much to digest, and vomit them up somewhere else. To others, a knife of urban decay shearing through fields, taking ugly people to partners who stopped loving them years ago. But first and foremost, trains take tidy men from indifferent houses to lockable desks. These people are businessmen. Businessmen. The brunt of trendy anarchic comedy since the birth of the yuppy, this episode is a plea for tolerance. We’ll show that their wife-beating and stress-related hair loss make them more human than you or I could ever hope to be. We’ll celebrate The Businessman Within. [caption, then opening credits]

INT. DAY. The Lounge.

Killian

Right then, you stand there. Toes to the chalk line.

Mary

What is this all about?

Killian

You want to live here, right? And we're all judges. If you want to live here, you've got to be a judge. And judges trust each other. We have to, so we can all drink drive, shoplift and fondle lovely girls without fear of punishment. This is a test of that trust. Put your hands by your side.

Mary

I'm not entirely sure about this.

Killian

[sighing, explaining, he paces in front of Mary] Look, Mary, it's not that I don't like you. You're a nice young thing. And you saved our lives last week from a flying cat. Don't think I've forgotten that. But we're living together, and I've got some speciality condiments in my cupboard that I don't want to go midnight walkies into the tonguebox of some Hungry Horace... [he whips his head around to look at Mary] or Hungry Henrietta.

Mary

[resigned] What do I do then?

Killian

Just stand there, and don't move a muscle. No harm will come to you. I promise.

[he takes out a hand on a telescopic trellis. the index and forefinger are extended as though to poke out your eyes. he points it at Mary. We see her through a target.]

Killian

Have faith in me... and you will be rewarded.

[he presses the trigger, which shoots towards Mary's eyes, and at the last minute Mary blocks it by putting her hand to her nose. Her move prevents her from being blinded.The trellis hangs improbably, sproinging]

Mary

What the green baize fury?

Killian

[pensive, retracting the machine] You took steps to defend yourself from me. You cast me as the foe. That hurts me, where it hurts.

Mary

[still confused and exasperated] In the pocket?

Killian

Close.

Mary

But the spring was too long! It would have blinded me!

Killian

Ah, but you didn't know that before you betrayed me, did you?

Mary

Well, ... doh! This is stupid.

Killian

I must think of a punishment. Aha! Community Service!

[fade out, then in to a room filled with children. Killian introduces Mary to the scene]

Killian

The Shropshire District Annual Children's Bingo Championships. And you are the caller.

[A child snorts a black marker pen and falls over with it stuck up his nose]

[Two children saw on a thirds arm with a bingo card, chanting "paper cut! paper cut!" - they look around to see Mary and all is silent]

They are most unruly.

Mary

But I hate children! They're everything I loathe! The product of sex!

Childs

[in the background] Bingo! Bingo! Bingo!

Killian

And they want to play bingo...

[Mary is suddenly on her own. She picks up a ball and reads it.]

Mary

Two-Oh, Blind Twenty.

[in the audience a girl screams - a proper horror scream]

Mary

[squinting] Is she dead?

[blood spatters into her face]

INT. DAY. Dream Toilet.

[Hilary and the Angel are washing their hands next to each other. About the dream world - it is normal, except train station signs often pass by windows, and pictures of Killian’s Shepherd's Pie are in all the rooms]

Angel

Now that wasn't nearly good enough, Hilary. The dropping segment of your toilet venture was sloppy at best. An inefficient three-splash combo with residual crust on anal beard.

Hilary

I got it all off in the end.

Angel

At a gross net cost of 12 squares of toilet roll! It's not on! Your arse is going to have to be tightened up to be a feasible investment. That is, if you don't want to... miss your station, and Killian’s world famous shepherd's pie.

Hilary

What can I do to make my arse a more attractive proposition?

Angel

Well... we can normally trace these things, using psychology, to the first ever time you wiped your arse on your own. Shall we go back?

[SPECIAL effect, a five year old Hilary sits on the toilet]

Hilary

Mum! I've finished! [longish pause] Muuuum!

[Hilary hops off the toilet. From a crawling child’s point of view, we search the house, and find the mother is under the sink cabinet with the handyman. Then back to the toilet (quickly). Hilary tentatively pulls at the paper, and four sheets fall into his hand. He folds it in half twice, very deliberately. The Angel walks through the toilet door into the toilet, and Hilary is old again.]

Angel

Your mother wasn't there for you, was she? You had to work it out for yourself, and with such a family breakdown you slipped into a bad crack habit. Look at you! You didn’t even refold the paper. Some people refold three times.

Hilary

[upset] Why weren't you there, mother?

Angel

[slapping him] Forget your mother, you wretched child. I'm your momma and your poppa now. You answer only to me.... and of course.. [he points upwards] the boss.

Hilary

What... you mean God?

Angel

[visibly pained, rasping - retreating behind hooked wrists] Never say that word! God has no place in the business world! He is not a viable proposition!

Hilary

[to himself] I don’t know, the church don’t do too badly out of him. But you’re right - Killian always says that God has no place in the courtroom, or schools.

Angel

Then we’re making some progress.

Hilary

Crumbs.

EXT. DAY. The Real High Street.

[Killian and Mary are standing on the opposite side of the road to a pair of street preachers. The preachers can be seen between the two - one is a short bald bloke wearing a wig, the other a busty bombshell (clearly leading inexorably to Benny Hill style fun) - they carry placards stating "God loves you" and "Come to God"]

Killian

Do you believe in God, Mary?

Mary

God?

Killian

Yes. Do you believe in a... higher law?

Mary

I'd never really thought about it. I suppose not.

Killian

Good. If you want to live with us and be a judge, you can't have conflicting allegiances. You either follow the law, or you can join them [he points] right now.

Mary

Can't I keep a little agnosticism?

Killian

Let me put it this way. If God came down and mugged a pensioner in this town, he'd have his face shoved indelicately against the bonnet of a panda car before he knew it.

Mary

Only he would know it, surely. Being omnicogniscent.

Killian

That's probably why we don't get God mugging many pensioners in these parts.

Mary

Why would God mug a pensioner?

Killian

Why, Mary, haven't you heard? He moves in mysterious ways. But “moving in mysterious ways” isn’t a recognised defence, otherwise handicapped people would be above the law.

Mary

Yes, I do see your point, actually.

Killian

Let's test you out then. Come over the road.

[They cross the road to the Christians, and stand behind them]

Killian

Right then. You know what to do.

Mary

I do. Using only the techniques prescribed by Benny Hill before his death, create disharmony in the ranks of the Christians.

[The following is done in a mime, but with the yabbering of the Christians done in speeded up babble. A tribute indeed to Benny Hill.]

[She walks past, and taps them both on the inside shoulders, then walks away, unnoticed - they look at each other for a couple of seconds, then they get back to heckling innocents.]

[Mary walks back and pinches them on the arse. They both look, then slap each other. Eventually they resume the shouting at passers-by.]

[final run - Mary takes off the wig and walks past - the man turns to the woman and shakes his fist at her, she sees Mary and points, and they both chase her. They run for a while (perhaps in some amusing places) until Mary thinks of something, stops, and turns to face them]

Mary

[sweetly] Oh, I'm sorry.

[the Christians stop as though by an invisible wall - they want to hit her but they can't]

Bloke

Nyg... bah... We forgive you. But only because we have to.

Bird

Eye for a eye! Eye for an eye!

Bloke

We’re New Testament[2], Sandy.

Bird

Shit.

[the girl gives a dirty look and they walk off. Killian is suddenly standing next to Mary]

Mary

Well?

Killian

Not bad... a clumsy wig-grab, compensated by the abuse of the Christian ethic of forgiveness. You're learning, Mary. Come on, let's go home. Jools has been on his own for hours now. He might want to go wees.

INT. NIGHT. Dream Night Club.

[The Angel and Hilary are standing on the outside of the dancefloor, where fat people are dancing in suits - Hilary's wig has been slicked back and is tied up in a ponytail]

Angel

Breath it all in, Hilary, my boy - this is your adventure playground. Your weekly treat for a job well done. Look at all these people. They’re yours to play with.

Hilary

Urf... I feel sick...

Angel

As well you should... you've had twelve pints of piss lager and a Peperami Hot.

Hilary

oowoarg....

Angel

Come on, Hilz! There's the girl of your dreams! Waiting for a dance!

Hilary

kwoartgh...

Angel

She looked at you! Come on... she winked at you! That dirty slut wants you so much!

[The Angel grabs Hilary's head and makes him look at her]

Angel

Feast your eyes on that honey...

[blurry beery vision -Hilary starts talking to a lizard woman]

Hilary

Hello. This face leaves in five minutes. You’re very nice.

Angel

Hilary, come away from the lizard woman. She’s over here.

Hilary

Mamma! Mamma! You came for me!

Mother

Get us a drink and I’ll let you suck me tits.

Hilary

Mother! I’m surprised at you!

Angel

It’s not your mother. It’s Kylie, the first of the generation of Kylies and Jasons to reach the age of consent. Painfully working class, and to be treated like shit. Charm her, promise her the world, fuck her, then forget she ever pinned her hopes on you.

Hilary

Criminy.

Angel

[pushing him over] Chat her up... go on... use a clever chat-up line on her. Us girls love clever chat-up lines.

Hilary

But I don't really want to. I don't fancy....

Angel

This is a dream, Hilary. You can do what you like. It doesn’t matter. Would you rather miss your station, and your Shepherd’s Pie?

Hilary

[resigned] Where is she then?

Angel

Right there. I'll leave you to it.

Hilary

Right... OK... If you were a tree, you'd be a poplar, like, yeah, because everyone likes you.

Kylie

Yer what?

Hilary

And... if you stem my weeping I willow you my heart.

Kylie

Ooh, that's dead romantic that is.

Hilary

And if you'd root around for my trunk and bark like a dog I’ll never leaf you. I’m making a film. Do you want to be in it? It’s about beautiful women like you. You’re very beautiful.

Kylie

Eeh, ya dirty bastard! You just want us to jemmy open me flaps.

Hilary

Go on, don't be a beech.

Kylie

Oooh! Yer clever, you. Gizza kiss!

[they kiss, and Hilary visibly gags. Without showing any vomit, Hilary pukes into the woman's mouth. Her eyes open wide in surprise]

Hilary

[separating, strings of vomit connecting their lips] Urff... here, have a menthol fag. It'll freshen your breath. [the woman runs away, choking]

Angel

Excellent performance!

Hilary

I vomited into her mouth. I can’t believe I vomited into her mouth. People will call me.... well, they’ll still call me Hilary, but they’ll know I vomited into a woman’s mouth.

Angel

Extreme behaviour! The menfolk will love it!

Hilary

Am I doing well, then?

Angel

Not bad at all, so far. The ability to misbehave is fundamental. You make this country work – you deserve to let your hair down. These bastards owe you.

Hilary

[arms draped over a railing] Yeahurrr...

INT. DAY. The Real Lounge.

[Jools sits in a chair, slouched excessively.]

TV

[clips of teenagers riding their bikes into a wall] Post Offices around the country have been laid seige by BMX Ram Raiders. The teenagers, thought to come from dysfunctional families, listen to rap music, and have little respect for Members of Parliament.

Boy

Yeah, like... them politicians, they can, like, get stuffed, eh?

Girl

Yeah. They should all, you know, eat dog pats.

TV

[a child swagging painkillers in a field] The introduction of a new painkiller, previously only used on people who had been skewered on iron railings in the hours up to their death, has been branded dangerous by a Consumer's Association. [the child falls over] The drowsying effect has already caused a woman to let go of her pram on a hill, and as we can see, [combine harvester with sleeping farmer and cameraman on board] this combine harvester is headed straight for a kipping child. [close up on a spilled bottle of pill in the harvester] Our camera crew can only watch and wince. Ah... sleep, those little slices of death.

[and finally - caption reads "Chairy Bakewell"]

And finally, random incidences of furniture have occurred throughout the Midlands today, a Futon appearing next to a runway at 6am. Soon after, breakfast bars were seen clustering around a travel agent, trapping the customers inside for up to an hour. Finally, a chair materialised on four upturned cherry bakewells, and the cherries were found to be ideal wheels.

[to the room, Jools has been playing around with a hook and a piece of string, tipping the hook from one end to the other - he has an idea]

Jools

[as the lift dings] Right then my boys, let's see what Jools has for you.

INt. DAy. The real Lift.

[Killian and Mary are goin' up]

Killian

[edges towards slightly] You know, Mary, I had my doubts about you. I thought you were a stern-faced old bitch unfit to wear the judicial wig.

[Jools fixes a wheel to the ceiling]

Mary

And now?

[Jools fixes another wheel]

Killian

[edging again] I think you'll make a superb judge.

[he attaches them with string]

Mary

That's very.. ambiguous. Thank you.

[he puts on a metal clip, and hangs in a harness]

Killian

[turns to face her - she stares at the lift door] Mary... I'm half Italian and as such I have little control over my emotions or physical acts - when I’m close to women in lifts, I get these terrible urges...

[Aerosmith’s Love In An Elevator starts. Mary looks ahead, trying to ignore Killian]

[Outside the lift, (the music stopped), the lift arrives. As the doors open, the music continues. Killian is poking one of Mary’s boobs while she just stands there, bored. Killian is having a whale of a time.]

[Jools, dangling in his nappy harness, slices a rope with a sword and goes sailing towards the lift. Mary sees him and screams.This makes Killian poke even more furiously. From a Jool’s eye view, zoom into Mary’s mouth.]

[The next thing we see is Mary pressed bodily against the back wall of the lift by Jools]

Jools

Krypton Factor!

Killian

[straightening his jacket, pretending nothing happened] You'll have to forgive Jools. Thursday is his day off, and he gets bored.

Mary

Have I signed my contract yet?

Killian

Yes, you’re here for a year so get used to it.

[he sniffs his poking finger and has a lick]

Hilary's Dream World, Training sequence.

[The angel stands over Hilary as he undergoes his final training, in the style of Karate Kid. THESE ARE The activities that he becomes better at, MIXING up the light comedy with the disturbing…

drinking cocktails (competely missing, putting his face into the glass, then drinking properly through steadily more elaborate straws)

on the Stock Exchange (facing the wrong way, waving a bunch of flowers, trying to start a conga, then doing it perfectly),

WALKING PAST TRAMPS : GIVING THEM MONEY, IGNORING THEM, TELLING THEM TO GET A JOB, THEN PUTTING THE BOOT IN SEVERELY ON A SLEEPING TRAMP

taking only one square of toilet paper to wipe, ripping off a quarter of a sheet while the angel cheers him on,

CHATTING UP WOMEN; SHOWING THEM PORTFOLIOS OF HIS “PHOTOGRAPHY” and film scripts, stroking his barely concealed hard-on, and HUMPING A WOMAN AGAINST THE WALL WHO CLEARLY ISN’T ENJOYING IT]

Angel

The time has come, Hilary. You have cultivated the chunk of businessman in the most wretched reach of your soul, and you have become that which you never thought you could. It is time to complete the transition. You have earned the right to your own personal cellular phone. [she presents him with a golden phone]

Hilary

[wincing and shying away from the phone] But.... no!

Angel

TAKE IT, YOU SNIVELLING TURD!

Hilary

[taking the phone sulkily] OK, but I don't like this one bit.

Angel

[the angel is now dressed in Judge's clothes - she slaps Hilary] I’m not a businesswoman any more, Hilary. I’m a judge. But look at you! You make me sick! In your crapulous cuff-links and your mobile bloody phone! Have you no self-respect? [taking a pen out of his breast pocket] What the HELL is this?

Hilary

Now that's very practical, actually. You can underline the more interesting numbers with that.

Angel

More interesting? What constitutes an interesting number?

Hilary

Erm... big ones...

Angel

Eat me then shit me then eat me then shit me, listen to you! You'll be doing feasibility studies and [losing certainty] projecting time scales [regaining certainty] before the next tax year!

Hilary

Hang on, you gave all this to me!

Angel

And you took them. And in your new suit, you seem to be forgetting the situation here. I'm YOU. This is a dream!

Hilary

Oh, dear. Oh, very dear. Hang on, if I gave all this to myself, where did I get it from?

Angel

[thinks, then ignores the question] Hilary. What you want is to wake up before the Ludlow stop. And it appears that this is the only way. From here, however, there seems to be only one logical conclusion.

Hilary

And that is..?

Angel

You've got to meet the CEO. In the business world, he reigns supreme.

INT. DAY. The REAL Lounge.

[ceremony in the lounge]

Killian

Mary. When you came here seven days ago, I thought you were rubbish. Rubbish, I tells ya. But it seems that you are not so rubbish after all.

Mary

[pleased] You silver tongued rogue.

Killian

And now, you’re only a whisker away from leaving your lucrative job in loss adjusting to become an unpaid magistrate. With Lord Jools on the organ, let the final pumping begin!

[Game show - Jools plonks about on an organ, erratically but not badly]

Killian

First, I must interview you. [tapping a board with a cane, a photo of a woman playing the double bass] This is a picture of a woman playing the double bass. Is that legal?

Mary

Yes…. as long you don’t see her… doobries.

Jools

[singing] The bass is ace, and there’ll be no legal case,

Unless you’re rash and you flash your gash…. [he winks]

Killian

Very good! Now then, what crime am I miming? [he holds up his arms]

Mary

Hands. Wrists. Elbows. Arms! Arms!

[touches his nose and points - then wobbles his arms around]

Mary

Wobbles. Rubber. Waiter, this chicken is rubbery! No. Wobbly hands.... rubber arms.... Armed Rubbery!

Jools

[singing] If you follow the mime and commit the crime,

You're an armed rubber and you'll do time. [he wags his finger]

Killian

Absolutely right! And your final test... [he unveils a fairground bull-horn strength tester] You must conquer the bull of injustice. [the machine snorts & moos - Mary dusts her hands, takes the horns and tries - she struggles as we go into the intermission]

INTERMISSION - MONSTERS IN YOUR HANDBAG

Kid 1

Mum, we want to play, but it's raining.

Mother

Here you go, play with my handbag for a while.

Kid 2

Aw, mum, handbags are booring! We want guns, with real bullets.

Narrator

Hey, Girls! Think handbags are boring? Boys! Think handbags are girly, and for girls? Well you're all wrong! This is the '90s, and there's something new in your handbags.

[the handbag wobbles, grumbles, and roars]

Old Timer

[running to the hills] There's monsters in them thar handbags!

[the kids poke in a stick, and fight with the monsters inside]

[improvisational Jazz song]

Song

Monsters in your handbag, there's monsters in your handbag... oh yeah,

There really are a number of them, eating your lipstick, what a drag,

And giving birth to smaller monsters in the inner pocket, oh man.

Lay it on me, bro.

Narrator

Monsters in your Handbag was recorded in front of a living studio audience.

9. The Lounge.

[Mary struggles with the bull, in some pain]

Killian

Come away from the bull, Mary. You can't win.

Mary

Must... vanquish... bull... [struggle further, then falls exhausted to the floor]

Killian

Excellent! You have done well, Justice Mary Highpole.

Mary

But the bull's horns escape unscathed.

Killian

The bull cannot be beaten. Crime will always roam the streets, snorting, mooing, and trampling innocents with its four hooves of pain, despair, injustice and.... badness. But Mary, you fought the bull, and you didn't even stop when you saw the futility of literally wrestling a metaphorical bull.

Mary

Oh.

Killian

As a judge you will need this pig-headed oomph, this unthinking gumption. It's a crusade, Mary, and you must be willing to be gored by angered bulls when you wave the red rag of virtuous integrity.

Mary

Will I get gored often?

Killian

More often than you’d like. Believe me.

Jools

[still playing the organ]

She grappled the bull and wouldn't budge,

From her navel to her gavel she's a bo-na fi-de judge! [thumbs up]

INT. DAY. Dream Office.

[they approach the door to the boss, Mr Finlay. The angel stops]

Angel

I cannot go any further than this. You must face the boss alone.

Hilary

What do I do?

Angel

You’ve become a businessman. If you were still a judge, you wouldn’t have got this far. And the boss has been hearing good things about you. I think he’s taken quite a shine to you, Hilary.

Hilary

How do you mean?

Angel

He’s old, and he’s looking for someone to give his empire to. He’s thinking of you.

Hilary

Brilliant! I’ll be rich!

Angel

Yes, you’ll be rich and asleep on a train, forever. You’ve got to get the sack, if you ever want to wake up.

Hilary

Well, that shouldn't be hard. Getting the sack should be a cinch. I got sacked from that magazine, for drawing willies in the margins. [he looks around, the angel is gone. he breathes deeply. Mr Finlay’s secretary calls over to him]

Secretary

Hilary! I heard about you vomiting all over that working-class whore. Well done. Those earthy bitches should be shot, if you ask me.

[Hilary nods and knocks on the door. A hearty voice booms out. Mr Finlay is a fat man, in control but cheerful enough]

Finlay

Hilary my boy! Come in! Ho, heard about your exploits at that discotheque - if I was thirty years younger and had both my legs, I'd have been there with you, son. Bourbon?

Hilary

Thanks.

Finlay

Good man. When I took you on board, Hilary, I was taking a big gamble. The others on the board laughed at me, said that you were a slavering fool. But I saw the spark, that wonderful, hungry, spark.

Hilary

[thinking voice] Say something!

Finlay

I want to sculpt you, Hilary. Although not literally, of course. That might be incredibly messy, and the cleaners won't mop up blood. It clogs up the mops, and they have to clean the original mops with bigger mops.

[Hilary looks around for anything]

Finlay

I've got big plans for you, Hilary. You're like the son I lost in that card game to me. You're going straight to the top.

Hilary

Ermm... Kiss my curvy white butt.

Finlay

I beg your pardon?

Hilary

[gaining in confidence] Come over here, get down on all fours, and pucker up for arse.

Finlay

What's come over you, man?

Hilary

I've been hanging around with a bad crowd, and now I don't respect authority figures. Hence my request that you prise your heaving cheeks from that padded chair, tunnel your snout up my crack and get tongueing.

Finlay

That’s my boy! That’s the disrespect that this company needs! Fresh blood! Hilary, I’m going to hug you for twenty seconds. When I let you go, there will be a little tear in my eye.

Hilary

[pointing to his arse] Bollocks. I’m going to have to try something more extreme. Perhaps if I put this fifty pound note up my arse…

[he does so]

Finlay

Spectacular display, Hilary. It looks like the Queen’s gasping for breath there.

Hilary

Shit. Boss, I’ve got something I want to say. I’ve had sex with your thirteen year old daughter. I dressed her up like a zebra and rode her around your kitchen.

Finlay

I can’t say I approve of that. However, I did have concerns that my children would be used against me in my pursuit of money and power, so I had them both destroyed two months ago. I’ve never been one to become preoccupied with morality. Why, I’d have probably given her a slap on the arse myself if I’d been there.

Hilary

Oh, this is useless. Can I just resign?

Finlay

[angered, surprised] Resign? What the hell are you talking about?

Hilary

I want to resign.

Finlay

[grim] Well, that’s lovely. Unfortunately we don’t have a procedure for resignations.

Hilary

Well, I’m leaving now. Goodbye.

Finlay

You misunderstand me, Hilary. The only way you leave this company is… dead.

[finlay presses a button, and three ninjas drop from the ceiling. Ninja one, cold and efficient. Two, camp. Three, needs a piss]

Ninja 1

[Birmingham accent] Hello. Where's the victim?

Finlay

There he is, kill him.

Ninja 2

[camp] Oh, a pretty one.

Ninja 1

You can have him when he’s dead.

Ninja 3

Where's the toilet? I'm busting for a pee.

Finlay

Kill him!

[hilary drops to the floor and starts crawling towards the door]

Ninja 2

Where’s he gone?

Ninja 1

Is he in the vase?

Ninja 3

He might be in the toilet. I’ll go and check.

Ninja 2

No, it’s no good. He’ll be miles away by now. Would you like a cup of tea, Mr Finlay? What’s wrong, sir? Are you upset?

Finlay

I'm grieving... a lost son.

Ninja 1

Shall I pop the kettle on?

Finlay

That's very considerate. Thank you.

Ninja 2

[to self, repeating like old woman] I'll pop the kettle on.

11. Dream Train. Waking Up.

Angel

Well, it's ten minutes until your stop. Looks like you made it.

Hilary

You know, I've found that in this dream world I am the ultimate dictator. I can kiss the backs of dinosaurs, and ride on the lips of beautiful women. If I wanted to.

Angel

Don't be ridiculous, Hilary. You're not a God.

Hilary

Oh, yeah? Well, how do you explain.... this? [he closes his eyes, and the scene outside the windows changes to a starfield]

PA

We are currently cruising at just over the speed of light. If you look to the left, you may see yourselves turning left to look at yourself. We will be landing soon on the planet Dagobar, where Yoda trained the young Luke Skywalker in the workings of the Force.

Angel

So what? We're in outer space. It's just a dream.

Hilary

Not just in outer space, we're on the real Star Wars Tour.

Angel

There's no shepherd's pie in outer space, Hilary.

Hilary

In my dream world, I will eat exotic dogs.

Angel

Come to terms with it, man. You've got to wake up sometime, or you'll starve to death.

Hilary

Stop it! Or I'll turn you into an Ewok.

Angel

I saved you, Hilary. Without me, you'd still be having a spastic snooze.

Hilary

But you said you were me.

Angel

[now a man] I lied. I was sent to help you. You have a mission, Hilary.

Hilary

I know. I have to pinpoint the localised area of temporal flux, before reversing the polarity of neutrino flow. Only this will take us all back to the 26th Century.

Angel

[annoyed, he brings back all the field scenery] Right. Stop it. These businessmen are your mission. You have learned that within us all, there is a six inch tall businessman, wallowing in the turd in your bowels. But also, within these executives, there lurks a sliver of humanity. I believe, that if this sliver is nurtured to maturity, then we may find some hope for mankind.

Hilary

You stole my stars.

Angel

You'll wake up in ten seconds. Save the businessmen, Hilary, and you will be rich. In spirit, that is.

Hilary

[suspicious] Hey, you're not God are you?

Angel

Naah.

Hilary

Well who are you then?

Angel

[laughing] Do you know, I really don't know? Let's just say I'm a concerned omnipotent being from another dimension.

Hilary

Fair do's.

12. The Lounge.

[Mary is dressed up in full judge's garb]

Mary

This thing hurts my... [gestures her breasts] you knows....

Killian

[looking at Jools for help, who shrugs] No... what do they hurt?

Mary

My.. erm.. thingies.. Oh, you do know, what ladies have.

Killian

It hurts your handbag?

Mary

No. Right, what's the difference between men and women?

Killian

We're aroused by virtually everything, like the way an ornate chair looks like the profile of a naked woman.

Mary

Well, yes... but... Look, what are these? [she points at her breasts]

Killian

And we wank loads.

Jools

Breasts!

Mary

Yes! That's what the gown hurts. My thingies.

Killian

Well it would. The tailoring trade's union refuses to acknowledge that women have any place in court. So they put breast restrainers in to make you look more like a man. And to punish you for your insolence.

Mary

Couldn't I cut out a couple of holes?

Jools

[pictures the scene - Mary stands in court, a pointy bra showing beneath the holes in the gown, and with a whip in her hand. She shouts huskily "You naughty vermin, you're going down..." back to real life, Jools is shuddering excitedly] Ufruer... knickers....

Killian

I don't see why not.

Mary

Well, that's about it then.

Killian

Yes.

[pause]

Killian

There's not much else for us to do.

Mary

Not today.

Jools

I'm off into the bedroom.

Killian

Right.

Mary

Goodbye.

[pause. Mary sighs. The phone rings. They both scramble for it. Killian wins with a rather brutal tackle]

Killian

Hello? [downcast] Hello, Hilary. Yes, very well. Oh, does it really matter? [hangs up]

Mary

[excited] What was it? What did he say? Is it serious?

Killian

From Hilary? He's about as dangerous as a seat belt. No, he's just said that his train's late and could we keep the Shepherd's Pie warm.

Mary

[sagging] Oh. I didn't know he had a Shepherd's Pie.

Killian

I wonder how he 'phoned from a train?

Mary

They have phonecard booths in trains.

Killian

Yes, but Hilary won't use Phonecards since he cut himself on the edge of one. He thinks that it bit him, and they're alive.

13. The Real Train

[Hilary hands a mobile phone back to the businessman opposite, holding it out by the aerial like somebody else's hot sock.]

Hilary

Eu, thank you very much.

George

[looking at Jools as though he just farted, he dials quickly and starts talking] Janet? Get your pregnant arse into gear. I've just spent a non-productive time-frame acting charitably. We'll need to claim tax back on the last forty-five seconds.

[The general business babble resumes]

P/A

Will all those with mobile phones please note that we will soon be passing under a tunnel. Do not become angry or violent as reception is interrupted, normal service will be resumed within eight seconds.

[Hilary looks out of the window. He sees the tunnel approaching. He looks around and sees the emergency stop handle. He cannot get towards it in time, the fat businessman blocking his path. He grips his gavel, checks tunnel, and presses a button on the handle. The head jettisons towards the handle, sprouts three grappling hooks, and pulls the handle. The train screeches to rest in the middle of the tunnel. All the chatter stops, and there is perfect silence except for slight birdsong. The businessmen look around from their phone conversations, and notice each other. Slow but lovely music box style music fades in.]

Businessman 1

What's that sound?

Businessman 2

It sounds like a river of love, lapping against the banks of my heart.

[a businessman rubs his eyes as if waking up from a twenty year sleep]

Businessman 3

I mustn't be afraid to tell my wife I love her, and that she doesn’t have to wear that clamp tonight.

Businessman 4

[looking at a small whisky bottle] You're not my real friend. My God, I don't need you. Jilly, tonight you will escape your ritual beating.

[two businessmen hug in the aisle. others try to join in the embrace. one pats another's arse, and he turns around, frowns, then smiles, then they kiss. The music box crescendoes into a full rousing chorus]

Businessman 5

I always wanted to be a pirate!

[an old businessman drops his trousers and dances. His shirt flaps prevent indignity]

[it all gets a bit confusing now, as the businessmen start doing their own things around the train. There is......

Robin Hood - shooting suckered arrows onto people's foreheads...

Dracula - seducing a transvestite

The Muppets - in their own first class compartment, flying around like they do

and others... to be remembered or invented later. A fair few non-famous people, just made up foolishly, though. In the middle, Hilary is rather nonplussed.]

[The engine starts up again, and the train starts to move out of the tunnel. Everyone looks around, and takes their seat. Still in costume, just rather self-conscious and chaste. Small snippets of former chaos remain - two businessmen bicker about a slice of shortbread, and another belches]

P/A

We apologise for our brief stop in a tunnel. We would like to point out that the train was fully lit throughout.

ext. dusk. real Train Station.

[People disembark in a huge conga. Hilary watches. The angel is next to him]

Hilary

You know, I think there's one thing I'm missing.

Angel

Yes?

Hilary

The point. I mean, is there a moral here? It sort of feels there should be.

Angel

What do you think?

Hilary

I thought the moral was that the technology we use to being ourselves closer, paradoxically keeps us further apart. And that predatory greed is its own undoing. But it all stopped making sense.

Angel

Everyone seemed to enjoy it.

Hilary

So raucous anarchic hedonism is a good thing?

Angel

Have you ever tried it?

Hilary

Well, no. Judges don’t go for anarchy much.

Angel

[handing over a can of beer] Here.

Hilary

Beer? Cheers.

Angel

Life is like drugs, Hilary. You want as much of them as possible, and if you're not jacked up to a drug box, you're wasting precious time.

Hilary

Can you live yourself into a pool of your own vomit?

Angel

Yes. And then it is time for a chicken kebab, or a Twix.

Hilary

What does that represent?

Angel

Oh, love, or forgiveness, something like that.

Hilary

I think I understand. But if this was a symbolic journey, what was the Shepherd's pie all about? It wasn’t Jesus as a Shepherd, was it?

Angel

And being in a big pie? I don’t think God would sanction a Jesus – Pie metaphor. You were probably just hungry.

Hilary

And what do you represent? Are you some angel, demon, or maybe the brutally neutral mirror of our souls?

Angel

I’m just a man on a train.

Hilary

Mmm, you're probably right. I should take more drugs.

Angel

There's my boy! Have another beer! Later, there’ll be crack.

Hilary

Ahargh! Now we're living!

INT. EVENING. The Lounge.

Killian

This is too much. Hilary's two hours late. What could be keeping him?

Mary

Perhaps he's stopped for some food. He must have been hungry.

Killian

And how long can it take to eat a mangy sandwich?

Mary

Depends.

Killian

Oh, yeah? On what?

Mary

The sandwich.

[the lift dings]

Killian

That'll be him. [into the lift telecom] Come in, Hilary, you've got some fancy explaining to do.

[the doors open, and Hilary stumbles about, pissed as a fart]

Hilary

Killian! I've missed you so much! Mary! You're looking... simply... s-wish! I want you to meet my friend, he's an angel, or something, and we've been having an adventure.

Killian

[there is no angel, by the way] I can smell cheap beer. Hilary, you floozy! you've been out drinking! My God!

Hilary

Sssh! Ssssh! You'll scare him away. Shay hello, erm... what'sh your name? [he swings around, realising the Angel isn't there] S'odd. Ooh, what's this? Oh, a squeaky toy!

Mary

I bought it for the cat.

[Hilary plays persistently with the rubber hammer - Mary and Killian watch - the cat walks around and Miaows in its Liverpudlian accent]

Killian

Oh, I can't be bothered with this. I'm going to bed. Hilary - clean your teeth when you've finished amusing us all.

[Hilary is headbutting the hammer on the table]

Hilary

Kiss my arse.

Killian

[gasping] I beg your pardon?

Mary

It's disgusting. He won't even remember he said that tomorrow.

Killian

In that case, he won't remember this either. [he goes to Hilary and bites his forearm]

Hilary

[singing with his arm in Killian's mouth] You can't put your muck in my dustbin, my dustbin, my dustbin, you can't put your muck in my dustbin, my dustbin's full.

Killian

[indignant] Good night.

Mary

Good night. [they both go to their respective bedrooms]

Hilary

There's round ones and square ones and round ones and square ones, and you can't put your muck in my dustbin, my dustbin's full.

[The song concludes with a chorus joining in - the end]

End Credits. The Forgotten Birthday.

[Hilary is in chambers, formulating his decision on a case. Everyone is chattering excitedly, passing around streamers, and Party Poppers. The door opens.]

Recorder

Quiet! He's coming!

[General shushing from the gallery and docks]

Hilary

[grimly, but expectantly] Before I deliver my judgment in this most heinous case, is there anything anyone'd like to say?

[giggles from the gallery, quickly silenced by authority figures]

Hilary

So, nothing at all then. Nobody's going to say anything. Maybe the accused may have something he'd like to share? Some special occasion?

Defendant

[suppressing a grin] No. Sorry.

Hilary

So, on this, the 25th July.... [expectant pause to no avail] it is my grim task to sentence you, Filthy Harry Tarbuck, to death, for a crime you didn't commit. Hardly fair, I know, but then life's a bitch.

[the recorder lets out an excited whoop, the checks herself. The defendant burps]

Hilary

[pointing at the Recorder] You - contain yourself. [at the Defendant] And you don't be so disgusting. I'll have the pair of you up a flagpole and in contempt. [he rubs his chin anxiously]

Recorder

Is something wrong, Judge Winters?

Hilary

No, Julie, nothing is wrong. You just do your job and write me down with that daft typewriter. So, then, your sentence. You're guilty, and you'll taste the rope. [he beats his gavel] Get out of my court, all of you.

[everyone stays, smiling]

Hilary

Are you listening? Get out! You're all shits and I hate you.

[likewise, they sit there]

Hilary

Officer Gump, arrest them all and take them to swing, like... the pundulum that they are.

Gump

No can do, sir.

Hilary

Even you defy me! Et tu!

Gump

I've had a last request from the defendant.

Hilary

What a revolting tradition. I say we just kill him now. Plug him into the lethal injection.

[The defendant tosses up a microscope, and catches it, winking. He sings]

Defendant

Happy Birthday.... tooo.... youuuuuooo.....

All

Happy Birthday.... tooo.... youuuuuooo.....

Recorder

[incredibly extended and sexual Tina Turner voice with tongues and quivering lips - perhaps only hte one tongue though. No, what the hell, let's have 40 tongues. Great!]

Happy Birthday, Hilary Winters,

All

Happy Birthday.... tooo.... youuuuuooo.....

[party poppers, cakes, and streamers]

Hilary

Dooh! You knew all along!

Defendant

How could we forget? You've been dropping hints since my trial started.

Hilary

I have not.

Gump

[to the gallery] He has, you know.

Hilary

[good humoured] Officer, I heard that, you cheeky young buck. Let's have your presents then. And the most tight-arsed gift gets a week inside.

[1] Continuity! Hilary’s entire family is declared to be dead next week. Who is this mystery woman?

[2] I am not entirely sure whether “Eye For An Eye” was in the Old Testament. And I’ll be shafted if I’m reading the Bible again to find out.